Sunrise [Yungi FF]

19. Broken

"Let's meet tonight," Mingi said, inexplicably drawn to the fluid flow of cars on the highway outside his window.

"Tonight?"

Through the phone, Mingi heard the underlying reluctance in Yunho's voice, which resonated with the shame in the deepest corners of his heart. He knew San was right, that he should stay away from Yunho for both of their sakes.

Mingi turned towards the door, feeling a tight knot forming in his chest. He was talking to San here, and he realized, no, accepted, for the first time that there was something wrong with him. Something more than just the medications.

Any second now, San would return with whatever he got from his bedroom and explain everything to Mingi.

A sudden impulse washed over Mingi like a spilled hot drink. It happened so quickly and the reflex was immediate. He closed the door, locked it, and pressed his back against the wood. He thought he was ready; he had paced back and forth between his bed and his desk and had prepared for the worst, but after calling Yunho, after hearing what the other had to say, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Mingi? Why did you lock the door? Are you okay?" San's worried voice was muffled on the other side.

San banged on the door when he heard no reply, but even that sounded distant to Mingi because of the one word he heard through the phone.

"Okay."

Mingi smiled and ended the call. The knot had unfurled slightly. He unlocked the door and pulled it open. The banging ceased abruptly.

"Why did you-"

San was stunned into silence when Mingi forced his way out of the room.

"Where are you going? I have to talk to you about..." San trailed off and held up something instead.

Ignoring the strange way his stomach flipped when he saw the folder in San's hand, Mingi averted his attention to the shoes he was trying to put on. "Maybe next time."

"What? But you said-"

"You told me yourself," Mingi interrupted. "That it's better if some things stay unknown to me." To Yunho too, Mingi thought, but he didn't want to drag Yunho into the conversation.

"Yes, but-" San floundered, "things will change if you're going to keep going to him. Having a third person is a different matter."

"Not if that person trusts me more than my four-year flatmate does." Mingi jammed his foot inside his shoe with a thud.

"You don't know how you sound like, do you?" Mingi continued when he saw San's blank expression. "When you tell me to take my medications every night and warn me not to go out after because I might 'act out'." 

He paused, finding it increasingly hard to keep eye contact with San. "You sound patronizing. Always. I get that you know more about these things than I do, but you also sound like you're scared for the people I'm going to meet outside of our flat, not like you care about my health or worry about my safety. It stings."

The firmness left San's eyes. The round orbs glimmered darkly in their sockets as if trying to break through the silence.

Mingi's hand reached for the doorknob. "And you never told me anything," he said quietly. "And I don't want to listen even if you're finally willing to. I'd rather listen to someone who trusts me."